


Stay

by emotionalsupporthufflepuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, BAMF Hermione Granger, Broken Hermione Granger, Brush With Death, Crookshanks mvp, Dark ish Draco Malfoy, Draco has a secret heart of gold don't tell anyone, F/M, Fist Fights, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Torture, Memory Loss, Minor Violence, They lived co dependently ever after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalsupporthufflepuff/pseuds/emotionalsupporthufflepuff
Summary: Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her time is scared to use magic and struggles against her own mind to stay in reality. Draco has made a promise to stay and take care of her no matter what but when he's disinherited from the Malfoy fortune he must make choices he'd never dream he'd have to make.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 107
Kudos: 246





	1. Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! this work is dark- ish. Mind the tags, please! I will update them per chapter!
> 
> a.) I've done my best with Wizarding to Muggle money. According to google a Galleon is (only) worth 5 GBP (about 6.64 USD)  
> b.) I waffled a lot on posting this. 4 more additional parts are outlined and I'd appreciate feedback

The dirty fluorescent lights flicker above the second-floor landing of the three-floor walk-up. The carpet on the steps smells like dirt and mildew and is as old as the building itself, having ground itself down to be one with the foundation of the stairs. Cobwebs decorate every corner, and it always seems like someone in this building is _screaming_. Tinny music pours from the walls and the foundation is one bad storm from crumbling into oblivion.

It’s the last place Draco Malfoy ever thought he’d call home. 

But as he rounds the landing and sees the golden 2 on the door, he can’t help but feel a sense of relief that he’s made it back and a sense of dread at what he might find. 

He doesn’t need to use a key to get in, but it makes enough noise not to startle her and helps keep up appearances for the muggle neighbors. 

He pushes the door open to see her standing there, in her favorite blue sundress at the stove, flipping cheese toasties in a frying pan. 

She’s alive, and she’s lucid, and she’s happy. He can breathe a sigh of relief and thank the universe for rewarding him with a quiet evening. 

_ Alive _

_ Lucid. _

_ Happy.  _

She smiles, and she's so thin he can see the muscles shift under the sharp cut of her cheekbones and the skin, drained of its natural golden hue from lack of sunlight shifts with it. 

To him, she’s still as radiant as the sun, still as beautiful as any work of art in a museum. 

_ She’s still in there. _

“Welcome home, love.” Hermione greets him. Happiness spirals through his tired soul at her voice. “I made us dinner. It’s not much, but it’s warm-” her expression tightens. 

“I get paid tomorrow, don’t worry about it, this is perfect.” It’s true and not because a cheese toastie and half a can of tomato soup will fill him for the night, or even her for that matter, but because she’s  _ here _ really here. He kisses her gently, running his thumb over the crest of her cheek. She leans into his hand and kisses his palm. 

She sets the food on their tiny,  _ tiny  _ kitchen table that came with the place and sets out a stub of a candle with it, lighting it with a match.

“For ambiance,” she says, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. 

The layout of the flat is all one open space except the bedroom and bathroom. The wallpaper is a dirty, used to be yellow color, the floors are dark and uneven wood panels that creak and moan with every step. It’s hardly a place for ambiance, but he knows it means something to her.

He presses her into the countertop, and she melds to him, tilting her chin upwards so he can trail lazy kisses along her throat. His fingers skate up the hem of the dress as she braces herself on the surface behind her, eyes closed in bliss and thighs shaking slightly at his featherlight touch. 

“Did you remember the potion?” He asks, sucking on the juncture between her neck and shoulder. 

“I remembered all my potions today. I don’t know how we afford them all, though…”

There it is.

Reality crashing down around them. 

_ We don’t. I steal what I can from work or botch inventory to brew more when I have to.  _ He thinks to himself.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you.”

He pulls away and uses his wand to send the rest of the food to the table and revives the withered looking roses in a vase. Holding out a hand, he leads her to sit down across from him.

Dipping her sandwich into the soup, she lost herself in thought for a moment. “I also remembered to feed Crookshanks today, and I took the laundry downstairs, and while I was waiting for it to dry, I read...I read…”

Draco leans back in the seat, pretending to stretch and looks into the open bedroom door. On the wrought iron bed, the cat was sleeping contentedly next to a folded pile of clothes with  _ Hogwarts; A History  _ resting on the top. 

“I read  _ Hogwarts; A History,” _ she says proudly, finding it in her mind and taking a bite of sandwich. “How was the ...Apothecary?!“ Her eyes flash with excitement at remembering it so quickly. “Did you get to make anything interesting yet?”

He shakes his head and sighs deeply. “No, just more of the basics, a cure for boils, hair thickening potion, all the things that sell out fast. Boss still doesn’t want me near the complicated potions.” 

_ Because he doesn’t trust me. But we don’t need to get into why not when she’s doing so well.  _

Her brows come together in contemplation. “You were always good at Potions. You never had to ask for help or an explanation. During the war, you brewed us Felix Felicis. And then…” 

_ You gave your portion to Potter, saying he needed it more.  _

“Potter won.” He supplies, swallowing all the other things he wanted to say. 

“So it must have worked.” She finishes her meal, still thinking hard about something. “Why don’t you find another job?” She asks, looking down at her empty bowl. 

“It’s the best I can do without my N.E.W.T.S,” he says, not meeting her eye. 

“There must be away- “

“There isn’t Granger-” 

“It’s because you’d have to leave, isn’t it? And I would have to stay with Harry or in St. Mungos until you were done-” 

Rage boils right beneath the surface, and it takes everything to tamp it down in his voice. “I’m not putting you away in the fucking hospital, so I can go back to Hogwarts and grovel at some test officials’ feet. Potter can’t be bothered these days. Besides my father can’t live forever and when that day finally comes, I’ll just buy my own apothecary and put that one out of business. “ 

A familiar spark flashes in her eyes. His heart rattles in his cage.

_ Fight with me. Tell me I’m wrong. Call me arrogant and slap me. Hex me. Come on, come on. _

But as quickly as it comes, it leaves again, the fire dies. 

The cat comes slinking in from the bedroom, winding around her feet until she reaches down and scratches his head. He gives him a look of “ _ good going arsehole.”  _

Her vinewood wand sits on the shelves with a notice-me-not charm on it. 

“Do you want to try using magic for dishes?” His voice so small so painfully small, and he hates even the pinprick of hope he can hear in it. 

Shaking her head quickly, she gathers the bowls up. “No it’ll be much faster to just- sit down-” he drops himself back into the chair. “I’ll take care of it. It’s fine. Everything is fine.” She rushes to the sink as Draco waits, staring at the wand. 

_ Brightest and Bravest witch of our time. Scared of her own wand. _

Crookshanks winds in and out of his feet too. The cat’s another mouth to feed, but he’s worth it; A touchstone to reality for them both when the noises of the building blend with the paranoia from the past. Kills the bugs and mice that come with the building, and Draco will swear until his dying day he saw the cat  _ turn off the tap _ when Hermione left it on and wandered away. 

Taking a minute to close his eyes, he occludes everything in his behind, deep underneath impenetrable walls. All the rage that lies just beneath the surface, the frustration, the hopeless... there’s no space for it...no time for it. 

To give in is to lose her. 

He can hear his own voice from far away, sobbing. 

_ “I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you, just stay. Stay.” _

When it’s all boxed away, he stands and goes to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. 

This is what the war couldn’t take away.

The way she fits into him, the way they move so in sync within each other, it’s like they were two halves of a whole person. The way his hands span over the top of each hip, bringing her closer in. Her touch ignites something in him, something more than just lust within him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t go.” It’s a litany against her skin. He twists his fingers in hers like it’ll keep her from slipping back under.

“I’m here. I’m here, Draco. I’ll get better, I promise. It’s happening, just hang on. Hang on for me, please?” 

The question at the end is so apparent it physically hurts. He needs her, more than anything, and he’ll go without just like this until he gives out. 

“Always always always.” 

***

That night they are curled in their too-small bed, her back to his chest. Dreamless sleep is dangerous in large quantities, so they try to save it for the genuinely awful nights. He runs his fingers through her long curls as her breathing slows, and the tension melts away from her shoulders.

“Tell me a story,” she says sleepily. 

“Like what?”

“Tell me how...tell me how this all happened again.” 

He sighs into her hair. “You were there -”

“Yes, but use your own words. Please.” She shakes his hand in hers.

“Fine. The war was dragging on -”

“Ugh couldn’t start with Once upon a time?”

“That’s not how this started, and you know. Now hush if you want me to tell you the story.” She didn’t respond. “The war was dragging you, and Potter and Weasley were on the camping trip from hell. Potter broke the taboo and -” he swallowed hard as he did every time he had to repeat this part “I was… with the snatchers...they brought you back to the manor…”

“But you got us out.” It was so quiet he wasn’t even sure he’d heard it. 

“Yeah. I did. I made Potter bring me to the whole Order. I swore I wasn’t going to be a double agent like Snape. So I reset the blood wards on that hole in the wall Potter inherited and brewed potions for you lot.”

“I didn’t trust you for a long time.”

“You always were the smartest person in the room, Granger. Eventually, you figured out I wasn’t going to poison you, though. “ 

“After that ?” her voice was heavy with sleep. 

“After that...Someone fell hard and fast for the other one. There was a kiss. Then a fantastic shag in a potions lab.” she gave a weak laugh, and her breathing steadily grew to the deep, steady rhythm of sleep. He lays there very still for a long moment, remembering how she was...before…

When she’s deep asleep, he dresses and head for out of the front door again, Re- warding it to hell and back, he mumbles- 

“I’ll always take care of you.” 

He fishes out a cigarette from his coat pocket and lights it with a covert flick of his thumb, making his way down alleys and poorly lit streets, to a basement side door.

A slot opens, and a pair of beady black eyes examines him. 

“Tha’ poncy git is back.”

“Let ’em in, he throws down as good as anyone.” 

The door opens with a groan of protest. The concrete basement is filled with shouting men standing around a fighting ring, which is just a few cones and rope. The place smells like blood, sweat, and cigarettes. 

“Weigh-in; no shirt, no shoes.” The second man says even though Draco knows the drill by heart now. He toes off his shoes and tosses his shirt and coat onto a grime-covered table. The club owner slides the scale until it balances out himself, trusting no one else to the task.

_ Honor among thieves.  _

__ “B Class. “He looks over filthy glasses at Draco. “You was a C when you started off, son, need to eat better.” 

“Spare me the lecture.”

He clicks his tongue. “Just one other tonight so far, but it’s a 100 quid for the one fight.” 

“I’ll do it.” he says, tossing his shirt back over his head and stuffing his feet into the worn-out boots. The sickening thump of someone heavy hitting the floor behind him signaled the end of the current fight. There’s a great shuffling around as people left,new people pushed in for a closer seat to the new fight. Draco takes his stop on the opposite side of the ring. 

The bloke he supposes is his opponent is a man who looks like he’s halfway transfigured from a bulldog. 

Too easy. 

The fight starts, and Draco takes a far too casual step forward. He wants to piss this guy off, the angrier they are, the easier they are to beat.

Something in the crowd catches his eye—a pair of glasses, a scar, and green eyes. 

_ Motherfucker.  _

__

__ Bulldog takes the opportunity to grab him by the shirt. Zeroing back in on the fight, he dodges to the right of the oncoming fist.

Wait until the arm is extended all the way. Left over right, over the joint.

Pull down. Hard 

Bulldog yells in a mix of surprise and pain. He starts to fall, and Draco grabs the back of his head with his right hand and rams his left knee into the other man’s face. He falls, blood pouring from his nose, too big, to ungraceful to get quickly to his feet. He staggers up.

The club owner holds up the roll of cash.

He only gets it on the knockout. 

100 quid is about 20 Galleons. That buys all of Hermione’s potions for a month.

_ I’ll take care of you, I promise. I’ll take care of you, just come back to me. _

__ He drives his fist into the bleeding face, and the other man crumples to the floor. 

The money is his. So is the disgust, regret, and the bitter tang of self-loathing. 

_ Alive and lucid. They’ll be time for everything else later.  _

Outside he almost runs into Potter in his rush to get home. 

“Good fight there, Malfoy.”

“Fuck off.” Dracos sniffs and tries to walk past him and gets cut off. “What are you doing here, anyway? This isn’t a place for the Golden Auror who lived or whatever the fuck you are. “

Potter holds his hand’s palms up. “I was chasing around a lead, but I won’t turn you in, you didn’t do any magic that I saw, and I have no jurisdiction in the muggle world.” 

“Then what do you want?” he snaps. Everything down to his soul wants to sleep, to be home, to get back to her and bury the guilt burning his muscles. 

“I want to see Hermione. I haven’t had a chance too- “

“Yeah well, you’ve been busy saving everyone else, haven’t you?” 

Potter grimaces. “I dropped the ball. I was a shit friend. I want to be better. Let me see her.”

Draco punts a nearby empty can in frustration. It clatters and bounces loudly around the alley. “Fine, come by tomorrow at 6, when I’m done with work. Wait for me outside the door.” 

“Thank you, Malfoy. Here- “he holds out a sack that jingles with wizarding money. “I don’t need it.”

“We don’t need your fucking charity Potter.” He steps around the dark-haired wizard and rushes off towards the flat. “Tomorrow at 6. “ 


	2. Commitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potter reaches in his coat and pulls out a folder. “I heard of a job opening and last night...well it pays a lot better than fighting. Go to the end. “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a. ) Thank you for the positive feedback on the first part I'm really honored by all your lovely comments. I hope this part lives up to it too.  
> b.) for the purposes of this story the second wizarding war was extended by a full year  
> 

_ Summer 1998 _

Hermione let her eyes adjust to the dark of the potions lab before entering the stifling hot space. The room was sharply sloped, having once been an attic but now was full to bursting with shelves, cauldrons, a trunk, and a camp bed.

“Malfoy, it’s boiling in here. Why don’t you do this in the kitchen?” She can’t see him but rather hear him over the corner cast into shadow by all the glowing fires under cauldrons of different sizes.

“Kreacher touches my stuff, says he’s trying to clean it. Ugly git.” he emerged from the corner in just a pair of black joggers one arm full of jars of ingredients, the other holding his wand out for light. 

Hermione forced herself to blink to keep from staring at his slim form, placing the jars by there corresponding cauldrons. He looked inside and checked the fire on each one as he went, meticulous in his methods. Something stirred in her, making her fingers itch to touch him, to press her lips to his, to taste the salt of his skin…

“You like what you see, Granger?” he smirked and leaned against the table stretching out, so all his upper half was on display. “I showed you mine, you should show me yours.” His silver eyes roamed over her. No one had looked at her like that in a long time…

She shook her head. “I had an idea. Do you think you could brew Felix Felicis? I’ve read it over, and it doesn’t seem that difficult, especially not compared to Polyjuice potion, I thought maybe there was some kind of catch, but I can’t seem to find it. “ 

Malfoy lifted himself from the table and slowly prowled toward her. “The catch, Granger, is finding the quality ingredients, then being able to afford them, and then having the patience to tend to the potion for six months. “His jaw rolled as he thought. “There might be some already brewed in the Malfoy or Black vaults...maybe even the Lestrange ones...or the Occamy shells which would be the hardest to get...but breaking into Gringotts is a fucking terrible idea.”

“But not impossible.” She said, holding his gaze as he closed in on her. She backed up until she bumped into the wall behind her. He propped a hand up next to her head, almost surrounding her completely. “Could you get in your vault?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it depends on whether my father believes I’m dead or missing...or if he knows I’ve run off to join the Order of the phoenix... “His eyes darken as he studied her face. “Of course, if I went...he’d find out…”

“What do you think he’ll say…”

“When he finds out that I’m working for the Order...or that I’m crazy about a muggle-born witch…” He slanted his mouth over hers. 

“Liar,” she whispered but let his lips capture hers, and his thumb traced her jaw, pulling her in closer.

_ Present-day  _

He stares at the rows and rows of jumbled potions ingredients, remembering that tiny attic room, hot and cramped, and the camp bed that he could never sleep in alone. The nerves he felt at first, genuinely believing Granger would hex him or slap the shit out of him again.

Grabbing the Essence of Murtlap, he droppers some on a bandage and wraps his fingers at the knuckles. The skin isn’t healing as fast as it used to from being broken so many times. He makes a mental note to start throwing punches with his left hand, so he doesn’t lose the dexterity in his wand hand. 

His boss comes in and tells him he can leave early for the day. He knows its not a favor but to pinch a few Galleons. 

Probably better to get back to the flat before Potter can get there anyway. He stops by a corner shop to buy food and pack of cigarettes, smoking one on the walk one home to ease the mounting tension at what waits for him. 

Potter is waiting outside the door, looking nervous with an arm full of bags. “I brought dinner, you at least have to let me do that, Malfoy. I knocked a couple of times, but she didn’t answer.”

Draco thinks his eyes are going to roll right out of his skull with irritation. “Do you remember me tell you to  _ wait outside the door? _ I know I did.”

“Yeah, but why…I didn’t know you knew how to use a key, Ginny still forgets -”

“Shut. Up. Potter.”

“It’s a compliment-”

“Seriously, shut up.” He looks around the silent flat, listening for any sound of her, hoping she didn’t try to climb out the kitchen window again. Crookshanks comes out, flicking his tail irritably, chewing on a spider trying to escape his mouth. “It wasn’t me, it was this idiot.” Draco points at the other wizard unloading the food from his arms. 

Making his way as quietly as he can over the irritable floorboard, he checks the closet, under the bed, and behind the door. A sharp cry comes from the bathroom. Pulling back the shower curtain, he finds her, brandishing the frying pan like a weapon and trying to stifle her own sobs. 

“Hey... it’s just me…” she gives him a reproachful look like she doesn’t quite believe him. “Look..no wand...just me, Hermione.”

“Someone was trying to get in.” She manages, at last, breaking down into full-blown tears. “You said it was safe here.” she drops the pan with a clatter on the tile. 

“It is... you’re still safe...come here…” She steps out of the bathtub and collapses against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tight. “Bad day, huh?” she nods without lifting her head, still sobbing. “That’s okay. Do you know who was at the door? Your friend, Harry, do you remember?” The given name feels awkward coming out of his mouth. She nods again. “Good, he’s here to see you do you want to see him? You don’t have to if it’s too much he can come back…”

She finally lifts her head to meet his eye. The fire isn’t there at all today, meaning the war is being waged internally, in a world he’s not privy too but effects him all the same. “Yeah, I want to see Harry. Harry is nice.”

“Yeah, sure.” he lets her lead the way, grabbing the pan when she isn’t looking. When she sees Potter, she lets out a happy squeal and runs into his arms. He hugs her full-on but gives Draco a look at his stashes, the frying pan again. 

It seemed as if the other wizard had taken the opportunity to stock their whole kitchen, which rankles his last fucking nerve. 

“Fucking really Potter?” he says, slamming a cabinet door to make his point. He turns on his heel to see a whole roast chicken taking up most of the table. 

“It’s just dinner, Malfoy.” He retorts, rubbing a hand up and down Hermione’s back. “I’m starving, you hungry ‘Mione?” She nods enthusiastically, and Draco tastes something to close to the bitter taste of failure. 

“Come on! We’re hungry!” Potter calls jovially, conjuring a third chair without a thought. Granger freezes on the spot, startled. “Oh...sorry ‘Mione...looks it just a chair…” She looks to Draco for reassurance, and the bitter tang lifts a little, giving her a nod that it’s okay. 

They eat in almost comfortable silence for a few minutes before the Gryffindor wizard tries to start the conversation again. “What did you do today, Hermione?” 

She thinks for a minute. “I fed Crookshanks, and I finished my book, it’s called  _ Hogwarts; A History. “ _

__ “Oh again? You love that book!” He laughs, but Draco shakes his head, trying to cut him off. 

“Again? What do you mean again…” she turns to Draco, eyes wide. “How many times have I read it?” Her voice starts to crack. “Be honest.”

_ Fucking fuck Potter _ . He swallows his food and takes a long drink to buy a few seconds. “From cover to cover? At least 100 times since you were eleven. That’s a new copy because your other one was so worn the pages were falling out. But it doesn’t matter, it makes you happy.”

“That’s right, it doesn’t matter. If  _ Hogwarts; A History  _ is all you ever want to read again, that’s great; its a good book.” Potter agrees, smiling at her.

“It does matter. “she mumbles, staring down at her plate, moving the food around before announcing. “I think I need a break.” and rushing off to the bedroom. 

When the bedroom door slams, Draco glares up at the other wizard, who at least has the grace to look ashamed. 

“Wow.” He says to himself quietly, staring at the spot where she had sat. 

He grunts in agreement, not really wanting to talk, wishing he’d just leave them to it. 

“She’s made a lot of progress.” he prompts again. 

“It’s been almost year I sure fucking hope so. “Draco snaps finally. “While you were off training for your dream job and rubbing elbows with Ministry fucks, we were here trying to figure out how to live. We figured it out without your help or your fucking money.” Ripping his wand out of his pocket, he casts a quick silencing spell at the bedroom door. “You have no idea how far she’s come, do you even understand what the fuck happened?”

The color drains from Potter’s face. “Bellatrix...Bellatrix happened to her and its miracle she’s still alive or even this coherent I know that…”

“Bellatrix did not just “happen” to her...When we were captured...she went in a dragged up all of her memories of magic, while using the Cruciatus on her, so that she associated magic with pain. Every time Hermione fucking Granger used magic.” he gasps for air as it all gets sucked from lungs with a fresh wave of searing anguish and guilt. “I had to watch it. Because Bellatrix thought it wouldn’t be enough of a punishment to me to just kill her. She wanted her to be a shell of who she was and to be afraid of me. Thought I wouldn’t want her if she was a muggle - “

“But even if she was...”

“Of course, I would. But she’s not. She’s one of the most brilliant witches in existence. Even her accidental magic is incredible.” he sniffs and wipes his face on his sleeve. “It wasn’t Bellatrix that happened to her, it was me, and I’m going to take care of her like I promised I would.” Draco props his elbow up on the table and cards his fingers through his hair. “Why the fuck did you come here, anyway?” 

Potter reaches in his coat and pulls out a folder. “I heard of a job opening and last night...well it pays a lot better than fighting. Go to the end. “

Taking the folder, Draco opens it, flipping through wanted posters and dossier attached to each one. The last one is a picture of him at 16 blinking up at the camera insolently at his father’s trial, probably just days after taking the Mark. A large VOID stamps covered it from corner to corner. 

_ For his service to the Order of the Phoenix, Draco Malfoy has been cleared of any and all charges impending -  _

__ “Great thanks.” he deadpans. 

“Keep reading. There’s a job offer in there.” 

Draco flips to another page and scans it, drumming his finger on his knee. “Hit- Wizard? Are you serious…I don't have N.E.W.T.S" 

"Don't need 'em just O.W.L.S, I'm assuming you at least had the 5 core ones -" 

"Fuck off I had 10." He stands and starts to pace off the nerves. "Hermione wouldn't like this..."

“Look at the pay you wouldn’t have to do it for long. Your father cut you off completely, right? You can’t be making enough…” Potter stops and swallows hard. “I wanted to help, but I didn’t have anything to offer before. You could skip the training and go right to the final practicals. They aren’t Aurors. You don’t have to know all the laws and court procedures and crap… you can do this Draco.” His head snaps up at the use of his name by Potter, but he presses on “Look at those reward prices… you’d only have to do one a week...Hermione has Healer appointments, right? Let me help with that too.” 

He sighs and tilts his head back, desperate to think of a reason not too. To tell Potter no and get the fuck out of his house. To keep slogging through at the Apothecary until his father finally died…he did from stress and exhaustion...

“I’ll do it. But don’t think this means I’ll forgive you yet, Potter.” 


	3. Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As fast as he could manage, feeling nothing, not the bruises in his raw fingertips or the rioting pain in his broken bones, he freed Hermione’s limp body from the shackles. 
> 
> “I’ve got you...I’ve got you...I’ll take care of you, I promise, please, don’t go, please. Stay...stay with me, Hermione. I’ll take care of you, always, always, always.” Lowering both of them to the ground, he freed the emergency portkey from his coat pocket and took it out of the fabric it was wrapped in. “Ok..ok...I’ve got you...please just stay...stay.” 
> 
> * Please read the A/N*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH HEY LOOK HERE!  
> THIS CHAPTER IS STANDALONE. CONTAINS TORTURE AND MILD GORE. APPROACH WITH CAUTION. 
> 
> This is the scene of what happened to Draco and Hermione at the hands of Bellatrix. You DO NOT have to read this chapter to understand the rest of the fic. 
> 
> SUMMARY: Bellatrix tortured Hermione while exploiting her memories of magic, to punish Draco. She doesn't kill him in memory of Narcissa. Her mistake because Draco kills her as soon as he gets the chance. He uses a portkey he had hidden on him to get them out, after refusing to leave Hermione, not knowing if he'd be able to get back. 
> 
> If you really feel like crying, I recommend listening to "Miles Away ( acoustic) " by Memphis May Fire

_ May 1999 _

This was it. 

Surely this had to be the end.

The stone basement floor below him was wet with his blood. A deep gash in his left arm, over his mark, mutilating the skin over it. He was afraid if he looked too closely he’d see bone. The limb was unless from the elbow down. 

He tried to used his right arm to get up but slipped in the sticky mess. Swearing, he tried a few more times before staring around the cellar room. 

Why did this place look so familiar?

_ Was this actual hell?  _

A rib and a kneecap screamed in protesting of him trying to get up.

“Set him up. I want him to see.” 

_ Oh fuck...oh fuck _

He’d know that voice anywhere. That voice that had belonged to a portrait the terrified him as a child, that voice he’d heard about returning home after fifth year…

Two huge arms tossed him like a rag doll against the wall, knocking the air from his lungs and breaking another rib in the process. Rodolophus, the bigger and smarter of the twins, Bella’s husband…

“Thank you love…” she let her arm linger over his back and he leaned into it like it was only affection he’d ever known. “My pathetic excuse for a nephew...Cissy was always too soft with you...and now look what you’ve done…” Bellatrix’s heels clicked on the stone, prowling near to him and out of the shadow. “You’re lucky your sorry arse is all I have left of her, so I won’t be killing you…” Her filthy nails dug into his scalp and wretched his neck to look into her soulless, deranged gaze. She tried to break into his mind but he was too good, having learned right from the source. “It’s too bad you’re girlfriend isn’t as good at Occulmency.”

_ Fuck...Hermione...what happened...one moment it was just the two of them in Grimmauld place...she’d come back from whatever she’d been doing with Potter when… _

The blood wards. 

Bellatrix had figured out what was keeping them out of the house…

Or, moreover, who. 

So, this was it this was the end… he hoped it would be quick…

A sudden blood-curdling scream shook him from his stupor. His injured mind tried to rectify the sound and lack of source when someone lifted this disillusionment charm from the wall opposite from where he sat. 

Hermione was shackled directly to the wall, arms stuck out from her shoulder at weird angles...they must have had to break her arms to get her to cooperate. 

Trying to stand made every muscle and bone revolt in pain and his vision rolled dangerously. His right kneecap was definitely broken and with his left arms still bleeding steadily.

She screamed again, so he willed his muscles to move faster, just his fingers to find purchase in the stones to lift himself. 

“DRACO! GO! “ Hermione sobbed, tears were cutting through blood caked on her cheeks. 

“No.” His leg was shaking from trying to balance all his weight, and the room lurched again, building up the acidic taste of vomit in his throat. He wanted anger to drive him, to spur him on in fight but instead, he was feeling the onset of shock from the injuries. Everything was taking on a strange nightmarish haze as if he could convince himself to wake up at any moment. 

“I’ll admit she’s pretty…” Bellatrix cupped a finger under Hermione’s trembling chin to tilt her eyes up. “Sometimes the commoners are. Would you still desire her if she was a muggle, Draco? If she lived like one of the filthy animals instead of pretending to be one of us…” Bellatrix was searching her mind for something. “Oh... _ Wingardium Leviosa _ isn’t that cute...CRUICO!” There was a blinding wave of red and a fresh wave of screams from Hermione. 

Letting out a roar of fury, Draco tried to lift his wand arm to point it at Bellatrix but was knocked back by a single large hand of the other Lestrange brother. 

“Don’t knock him out,” Bellatrix ordered. “I want him to see this...I want him to see the light leave her eyes. “ Her mouth twisted into the warped shadow of a smile. “Oh, I’m not going to kill her...I have something much worse in mind. You'll learn what happens when you sully my family tree, boy.” 

So the cycle continued in what felt like an eternity. He tried to stand, he tried to fight and his broken body betrayed him every time. Hermione stopped screaming and her head hung limply to the side, eyes open but seeing nothing. 

His body shook violently, with pain, with rage, with sorrow…

The ceiling above them shook and debris rained down in them. There was the exchange of whispered plans and glances at him. The Lestrange brothers ran up the spiral stone case the main house. 

This was it.

This was the end. He had to try or die trying. Her back was turned to him, believing him incapacitated.

“ _ Avada Kedavra”  _ It didn’t leave his lips like a shout like he always imagined it would, it softer, almost a prayer of hope. 

A look of shock flew over Bellatrix’s face before she dropped to the ground. 

As fast as he could manage, feeling nothing, not the bruises in his raw fingertips or the rioting pain in his broken bones, he freed Hermione’s limp body from the shackles. 

“I’ve got you...I’ve got you...I’ll take care of you, I promise, please, don’t go, please. Stay...stay with me, Hermione. I’ll take care of you, always, always, always.” Lowering both of them to the ground, he freed the emergency portkey from his coat pocket and took it out of the fabric it was wrapped in. “Ok..ok...I’ve got you...please just stay...stay.” 

The next thing he remembered was waking up in St. Mungos, alone. 

***

Later Potter would ask him “So you could have left without her at any time?” 

Draco nodded and stubbed the cigarette on the ashtray. 

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know where we were, or how to get back...if I even could...I wasn’t going to abandon her Potter...I made a promise and I still intend to keep it.” 


	4. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s so dangerous, though…” her lips tremble. “What if…” she swallows. “Draco I can’t lose you… I can’t…”
> 
> He has his arms wrapped around her in two steps, stroking her hair to calm her. She shifts until her head rests against the left side of his chest, where he knows she’s listening for the beat of his heart. 
> 
> “I won’t do it forever, just until we can get out of here until I get something more stable. We weren’t going to make it with me at the apothecary.” She sobs, and the sound cuts through him. “Just...for a little awhile, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going originally going to be one long chapter but I decided to make the flashback bit it's own chapter so it would be easier to skip over. 
> 
> Oh and the HP wiki says Hit Wizards make a starting salary of 700 Galleons a month! (3,500 GBP. 4,300 USD). It also says it comes with a ministry broomstick and regular bed in St. Mungos so I didn't think it was a stretch for Hermione to automatically remember how dangerous it was. :)

It’s been one month since he finished the surprisingly minimal Hit - Wizarding training. One skipped background check, one physical administered by a Healer who just told him to put on a Stone and left, a week of dueling, wizard, and muggle, and one last one in apprehension and the primary statue of secrecy laws.

In short, don’t get caught using magic, don’t get caught by muggle police. Don’t let the muggles take you to their hospital, go to St. Mungos they won’t ask unless they need to know. 

Last night he collected his first salary, and today he feels like he can finally breathe, actually fill his lungs with air and let go of some of the anxiety eating away at his insides. 

He silences the muggle alarm clock with a tap of his wand and opens his eyes to a pair of amber ones watching him. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep…” they sleep on the tiny bed legs entangled with each other, her back to his chest, and her hair trying to creep up and murder him in his sleep. Sometimes she shakes or wakes screaming from a nightmare, and he locks her in tight until it passes. 

Most nights he’s too exhausted to dream, good or bad.

Today she’s facing him and staring, worried etched in her features. 

“You didn’t have to get up this early to work at the apothecary. Where are you going?”

He clears his throat to buy a few seconds to think. “I got a new job at the Ministry.” It’s not a total lie…

It still tastes like one on his tongue.

“Oh, that’s right. Harry told me that.”  _ Fucking Potter. “ _ So you’re not leaving...to...see another woman…” her fingers pick at the quilt nervously. 

“No Granger, there’s no one else. “he tangles his fingers in her the short curls at the back of her neck and pulls her close to kiss her, to show her without words that he’s sincere; there is no one else in this world but her, no one in his life who matters half as much. His tongue slides across her bottom lip, savoring the taste of her. 

“I know...I know I can be a burden…” her eyes don’t open as tears leak out. 

“You’re not. Don’t talk like that. I made a promise to take care of you, and I’m keeping that promise.” Draco wipes the tears away with his thumb, wishing he could tell her, tell her exactly how far he’s willing to go to keep his promise. How he would watch the world the burn for her and throw himself in the pyre if she wanted him too. 

“I love you,” she says, tears still falling fast. “I never thought I’d say that to you, Draco Malfoy, but I love you.” 

“I know...I know I love you too. I’ll take care of you. Always, always, always.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. But he has to, this is there chance out. “Hey...remember the Healer says you should start leaving the house, right?” her eyes widened in fear “No, no magic. Do you think you could walk to the store across the street? I’ll make you a list and leave the money, just a couple things for practice...yeah?” She nods vigorously and sits up, letting the sheet fall off her top half and pool at her waist. 

He can see her bones shift under the skin as she stretches. She peels the top over her head, stands, and drops her knickers to the floor. With a crooked finger, she beckons him to the bathroom. “Are you sure you don’t have time for a shower?”

It physically hurts for him to groan out a “No, I don’t.” before she closes the door with a pout on her lips. He muffles a shout into a pillow and forces himself to dress and leave before she comes out again. 

Work is straight forward. He’s given the lowest tier cases for now, but it doesn’t matter. Today he’s given the task the finding a wizard whose suppose to be on house arrest but hasn’t been traced at being home for a full 24 hours. The perp is supposed to be dangerous but doesn’t even fight when Draco finds him sleeping in an alcove in Knockturn Alley and drags him back to the Auror bullpen to be booked back. Head Auror Robards drops the 100 Galleon reward money directly in his hands. 

A prickly sensation climbs up his spine, stealing his breath, curling his fingers around the coins. He’s held this much money before, of course, but this...this feels like freedom...like revenge...like vindication against the cosmic fates that fucked them over so badly. 

*** 

Walking in the door again, Hermione is waiting for him, next to a bag on the table, staring into the contents. 

She looks up at him, gaze narrowed in distrust. “I went to the store, got the things on the list. I noticed we had a lot of change left, so I went back, and I got this book-” she holds up a travel version of  _ Fantastic beasts and where to find them. “ _ And I got you a whole carton of cigarettes though because I remembered as much as I hate it and you try to hide it, you do smoke…” She looked up, and he could tell the way her eyes flickered she remembered something from long ago. “You used to lean out of that little attic window in Grimmauld place to smoke while trying not to been seen by anyone...and fight off that raven who kept trying to steal the Malfoy crest ring off your finger every time you did.” 

Draco huffs out a laugh at the memory. “He had it out for me.” and falls quiet waiting for her to ask the question he knows there’s no avoiding now. 

“Where did this money come from Draco...what’s your new job?” it’s so soft, such an innocent question. Of course, she’d figure it out, how long did her he really think he could hide it from her.

He can’t lie to her, not like this, not when it’s so big…

“Potter got me a job as a Hit-Wizard.” She gasps and brings her hand to her mouth. “The pay is….the pay is worth it…” 

“It’s so dangerous, though…” her lips tremble. “What if…” she swallows. “Draco I can’t lose you… I can’t…”

He has his arms wrapped around her in two steps, stroking her hair to calm her. She shifts until her head rests against the left side of his chest, where he knows she’s listening for the beat of his heart. 

“I won’t do it forever, just until we can get out of here until I get something more stable. We weren’t going to make it with me at the apothecary.” She sobs, and the sound cuts through him. “Just...for a little awhile, okay?” 

She sniffs but nods and pulls away from him. Her eyes are bright and alive with the fire that hasn’t truly died out. “Okay. Okay. So we’ll need to get you shape...not that you aren’t - “shes gives his arms a playful squeeze. “But in the best shape, we can manage. No more smoking after this...and I’ll start making healthier meals…and I’ll try to make some simple potions…”

“Hermione- “

“No...no I think that’s the best place for me to start, less wand work.” Her whole body shakes at the thought, but she presses on. “Let me take care of you, please...I promised I would, just like you promised me. I’ll take care of you Draco, always always always.” 

***

The only light in the dining hall is the moonlight that dares to break the heavy winter curtains that have been up for years now. 

And the only sound is the opening of yet another bottle of liquor.

Until she speaks.

“Lucius.” The portrait says in a hushed voice. Only her outline and honey blonde hair can be seen in the darkness as she moves around her frame. “Lucius, my love, where is Draco? Why hasn’t he been home? I want to see our son...Lu, are you still in here?”

The sound of the whiskey being poured over ice and a ragged cough is her only response.

“Draco chose to leave this family when he left for the Order of the fucking Phoniex just like you sealed your fate when you let him go. He as good as killed you, Cissa.”

The portrait sinks to her knees. “I begged him to, I begged him to go. This was no life for him, look what became of us... didn’t you want him to have better?”

Lucius gives another hardy cough into a handkerchief and produces something dark and slimy, the effect of the unknown curse that is slowly killing him, a parting gift from his dead sister in law. He vanishes the handkerchief, and just that effort drains him.

The ice clinks in Lucius Malfoy’s tumbler of firewhiskey as he brings it to his lips. 

The Floo springs to life, and where there should be two, there is only one.

“Macgillam.... where’s Stevens? I thought I told you both to report to me tonight.”

“Lord Malfoy, Steven's was found violating the terms of his house arrest, I guess the wanker didn’t trick the tracking wards properly. He was found by a hit wizard this morning and is in Azkaban for the time being. But more importantly, you should know...who brought him back to the Aurors.”

Lucius is bored with the conversation already. “Who?”

“Your son, Draco. They say he’s doing dirty work for the Ministry for that big paycheck since yous cut him off. Word has it he’s still shacked up with the mudblood. 

Lucius holds up his hand for the other wizard to stop his ramblings. “My son has done nothing but tarnish my good name and dishonor his mother’s memory since her passing. What would you have me do about the boy?”

Macgillam stutters and stumbles before saying, “Well I suppose I’d kill the ingrate, better no heir than mudblood spawn, eh?” 

Lucius holds the glass up to the other man, a maniacal laugh tripping from his lips. “Cheers then, to the end of the Malfoy line.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Lucius but it's just so much fun to make him a villain....


	5. Cherish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why. were you. Outside my FUCKING flat?" he grounds out again, shaking the blood from his finger, feeling disgust roll through his stomach.
> 
> The fucker actually has the nerve to laugh. "You look a lot like your daddy, you know that, right? Handsome fucks, the Malfoys."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will a delay with updates and I apologize in advance. I love this story way too much to abandon it. Hopefully, I won't be kept too long.

_ Summer 1998  _

Once again, Hermione found herself in the sitting room of Grimmauld place, curled in an armchair next to an open window hoping to beckon in a nonexistence breeze. Piled around her were books on some of the foulest magic known to wizardkind and still nothing more about Horcruxes. 

But the odd squawking and flapping noises from the attic were preventing her from concentrating anyway. 

Following the noise all the way up to the attic, she pushed open the door to the slanted attic room that was previously empty. 

It appeared the Order's newest and most reluctant member had taken up his residence here and was currently hanging out of the small circular window, pointing his wand and sending stinging hexes at a giant crow that squawked each time it was hit. 

"Stop torturing that poor bird Malfoy!" Hermione shouted from the doorway.

"What?" he asked, turning to look at her better, cigarette still burning in his left hand, Malfoy family crest ring glinting next to his wand in his right. The crow darted inside and started to attack the ring, squawking loudly. "Son of a - no...fuck off bird…" he hit it with another jinx, and this time fluttered back to the window sill and cawed indignantly. "I was just having a smoke, and I was  _ attacked,  _ Granger. "He shot her a scathing look and turned back to the offending creature. Lifting the cigarette back to his mouth, she saw his left hand was still wrapped in a bandage. 

"You're a mess...I swear...I...oh just hang on…"

When she returned, the bird had fled, and the window was closed again. Under one arm she had tucked Crookshanks and his cat bed and slung her beaded bag over her shoulder. 

"What is that?" he gestured to the half Kneazle under her arm, who was flicking his bottlebrush tail against her back to show his displeasure. 

"Nature's solution to your bird problem, unless you'd rather quit smoking, which is probably the smarter option. "She extended the windows ledge with the wave of her wand until it was just wide enough for the bed, and put both the bed and the cat down. 

"Malfoy, this is Crookshanks. He, too, is smarter than he looks, and he'll keep an eye on you. "The cat was already peering out of the window, no longer paying attention to the humans around him. "And the crow...he can do both. Now let me see that hand." 

Malfoy regarded her coldly from the opposite end of the room, not making any move towards her. "It'll heal. Thanks. You can go. "

"Don't be ridiculous.  _ Accio Dittany salve."  _ She summoned the little tin from the depths of her bag. Malfoy made to glance inside, but she closed quickly. Squaring shoulders and tilting her head up to look at him, it dawned on her she had not been this close to him on purpose since perhaps second year. 

Well, he certainly was taller. Maybe even taller than Ron at this point. And when did he get shoulders? He'd always been a scrawny, skinny thing... _ was _ …

"Hand," she ordered in the same tone she used with Harry and Ron. "Don't be a child, I'm trying to help you."

Reluctantly he pulled his hand from his pocket and held it palm up so she could examine the deep gash. 

"Just what I thought. Was this for the blood wards?" She shifted his hand to get a better look at the injury. 

"Yes." He gritted out, hissing between his teeth slightly. 

"This is going to sting for a moment. Tell me about the wards," she said, unscrewing the lid of the new jar of her dittany salve. With the war stretching on so much longer than she thought it would, she had to come up with a solution to stretch their supplies. This way stung more as it was slower acting but used far less of the actual plant. 

At first, he tried to jerk his hand away, but she held it tight in her own. "The wards…" 

"It was basically a reset to the house's original Unpplotable and Anti-Apparition status. It's an obscure branch of familial magic. As I am the last male heir to the line, it recognized me and did as I told it too. The only...ow fuck that hurts...the only problem is, an older descendant could dispute her claim…"

"Bellatrix…" Hermione whispered, lifting her head to meet his eyes. Draco's lips were pressed into a thin line. 

"Yes. But hopefully, Bellatrix thinks I'm dead or being held prisoner somewhere else. Don't look at me like that unless you have a better idea, Granger. I'm happy to play dead until we're all murdered anyway. " 

"So…you don't think we'll win?" She pushed his fingers in so he'd make a fist. 

Flexing his hand, he answered. "I don't think there's a way we get out of this unscathed mostly." Bringing his palm up to his eyes, he examined the now healed cut. "Thank you for this." 

"Well... you're one of us now… _ Draco" _ , she emphasized his given name with a little grin. Crookshanks was weaving himself in between their legs, purring happily. 

***

_ Early summer 1999 _

The room was entirely too bright, and then the smell of the disinfectant potions was overwhelming. The first time he tried to sit up, he'd been sick in a close-by bin and went back to sleep. 

But this time...someone was screaming down the hall, and he could hear it, but very faintly. It almost didn't register as a scream at; first, his brain had filed it away as "unimportant but annoying noise" until it persisted, demanding his attention. 

He knew that noise...that scream…

_ Hermione.  _

Forcing himself out of bed, Draco saw his wand lying on a sterile white countertop and grabbed it. Each step was like pins and needles but not unbearable. His vision swam drunkenly, so he moved with one hand along the wall to steady himself. 

Halfway through the trip down the hallway, he thought he heard the clicking of heels and a cackling laugh behind him. Turning with his wand aimed, he saw the hall was completely deserted. His heart pounded violently against his chest as he stared at the empty space, waiting for someone to materialize before realizing the noise had been entirely in his own mind. 

The sounds of multiple people, men mostly, speaking became more evident as the screaming got louder. Finally reaching the door, he saw through the little sliver of a window the heads of Potter, Weasley, and a healer in lime green robes. All three of them had shield charms up. Hermione was standing on a bed, trying to prize a fake window to the outside open. 

He opened the door, and everyone turned at once to look at him. 

Weasley spoke first, charging him. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HER?!" This close up Draco could see he had a burn on his cheek, and his eyes were bloodshot. Granger must have got him with some accidental magic.

"Ron stop! We don't have any evidence he was in on this. Though he better start explaining fast -" 

"I want to see Granger- " 

"And I want to know what the fuck happened to the wards and shit! And why Hermione was there and not at the battle with us -" 

"I don't fucking know, do I?!" His voice cracked from disuse. "She just came back and was going to tell me something when it all went to shit. Someone must have ratted on us because she knew...Bellatrix knew about me and…" 

He cut himself off.

It was too painful to say out loud. It was all over...all of it…he squeezed his eyes shut and drew a shuttering breath.

"Draco?"

At first, he thought he was hallucinating again. Her voice was too precise, too softly spoken…

Hermione had come to stand between her to friends, observing him. 

"You're not dead…I thought you were…" her bare feet shuffled along the floor, approaching him very carefully as though he might lash out. She took his left hand and traced over where the gash on his palm had been nearly a year ago. Her fingers traveled up and up to his forearm to where the Dark Mark was torn and mutilated.

Fresh sobs ripped from her lips as she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on the left side of his chest. "I can hear your heart beating… " 

Daring to let his arms encompass her, she pressed in tighter to him. 

This is what the war couldn't take anyway. The way she fit within his arms, the way her touch felt against his skin, the way his heart sang when she said his name…

"Stay with me ...please. "

"Always." 

*** 

Weasley left slamming the door behind him, never coming back to visit Granger. When asked about it, he simply said, "If after all that, she still picked Malfoy, there's no saving her. The Hermione I knew is gone." 

***

Draco wraps his hand around her, shaking hands as Hermione holds her wand for the first time in years. He can feel the magic pulse through them, alive and well. 

"You just need to tap and say the incantation, you can use a ladle to pour it into vials, though you won't waste any if you use your wand." He says it gently into her ear, holding her tightly to him. 

"I want to use my wand, I need to use my wand." And she almost sounds like she did before, the golden girl, the swot, the brilliant and the powerful witch she was. 

Still is

Well, somethings will never be the same.

"Don't push yourself. Look, it's all distilled now, you don't need your wand anymore if you don't want to." His heart is in his throat because if this goes wrong, now it could set them back years. 

She siphons the essence of dittany into the little vials, where they will sit for 14 days before she attempts to make her salve again. The very one she first used on him. To his surprise, she even puts out the fire with a wordless jet of water, then sets her wand down quickly, like it will turn on her if she holds it too long. 

"Done." She's trembling, but a triumphant smile crosses across her face. "I was good before, wasn't I?" 

He laughs, he laughs so hard it scares her. His face begins to hurt, and his ribs ache from the unfamiliar sensation. "You were, but you weren't humble about. Magic came to you as breathing comes to everyone else. It made me so fucking angry, I spent hours of my summers looking for ways you must have been cheating."

"Because I'm muggle-born. "Her mouth twists into a frown, but he can't help but laugh. 

"That and I was an egotistical twat. I thought everyone who was better than me was cheating it." Her mouth turns to a reluctant smile, and he lifted her chin for a kiss. "You always knew how to knock me down a notch or two, though." 

"Somehow I never forgot that." She cards her hands through his hair, making him shiver involuntarily. 

An air of danger shot through the house. It seemed to vibrate in place. Draco points his wand at the front door while ushering Hermione into the bedroom with the other hand. Crookshanks leaps to the window, fur fully puffed out, and ears scanning for any sounds. 

"Draco-" her voice shakes.

"It's just the wards. They'll keep us safe, it's probably just a drunk with the wrong number. Go into the room just in case." 

The vibration stops, but Draco remains in position, wand at the ready. A thousand terrifying memories come flooding back and try to call him away. But he can't, not now. Maybe they'll be time to pack it all away later, but now…

Crookshanks swipes his paws in a digging motion on the window, and he goes to see what's out there. The ginger cat lets out a singular long low growl, flattening his ears. 

Draco sees it. A wizard not even bothering to blend it, standing outside the building, clearly scouting the place out. 

***

"I'll always take care of you." 

It's the mantra on his lips, cutting though the familiar alleys, tailing the wizard who was outside his building. If he were smarter, he'd fucking apparate, but he thinks he can lose Draco on foot. 

But he can't, and it will be his mistake. 

As soon as he gets close enough, Draco hits him with a silent _ Stupefy.  _

He takes him to the basement where he used to go and fight, knowing it's empty right now. 200 pounds buys the owner's smile and says, "fuck him up, son." as he ascends in stairs. 

Draco doesn't use magic, not here, it's too easy to trace. But a few good punches to the gut and jaw are just as effective anyway. 

"Why. were you. Outside my FUCKING flat?" he grounds out again, shaking the blood from his finger, feeling disgust roll through his stomach.

The fucker actually has the nerve to laugh. "You look a lot like your daddy, you know that, right? Handsome fucks, the Malfoys." 

It takes everything,  _ everything,  _ not to kill him on the spot. With another stunner to the chest, he drags man working for his father, out to the alley, obliviates him and apparates away so quickly some of the ends of his coat doesn't make the jump. 


	6. Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Harry told me that you were in hospital almost as long as I was,” she says conversationally. He responds with a noncommittal hum. “He said you had trouble too…”
> 
> “No...it’s...the Healers called it “fragmenting.” It’s when an Occlumens can’t keep what memories they want in place and the ones they previously occluded from coming up to the surface involuntarily. Sometimes it's just as little as remembering the sound of my mother’s laugh, or an image, but sometimes it’s as big as hearing someone banging down the front door or screaming for help. I’ve sorted it though, don’t worry.“ He closes his eyes as her fingers comb through his hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mostly past heavy for a reason, the last two will mostly be in the present.

_Fall 1998_

The only sounds in the attic room was that of a crackling fire under a cauldron and turning of pages. The late afternoon sun streamed in through the windows making the room far brighter than normal. 

Hermione was researching Hallows today, needing a break from the darkness surrounding Horcruxes. A found copy of _The Path of the Elder Wand_ hovered in front of her, while Draco laid on the floor, head in her lap. She felt him flinch and saw his eyes squeeze tighter as if he was having a bad dream. 

“I wasn’t going to ask, but...what exactly are you doing?” Very carefully, she pushed his fringe off his forehead. Their relationship was still new, and she wasn’t used to casually touching someone besides Harry or Ron. Draco seemed to lean into her touch when she did, and she bit back a smile. 

“Occlumency. Helps with the nightmares.” He answered without opening his eyes. “Keep doing that it.”

“Is that healthy?” Hermione stroked the fine blond strands to watch them flick back again.

Draco snorted but didn’t open his eyes. “Probably not. Not a lot of options right now though seeing as how I’m presumed dead.” His shoulders shifted, and he let out a deep breath. “I’ll unpack it all one day if we win.”

Hermione paused for a moment. “If? That’s a change coming from you.” She moved her fingers to trace along his jawline. Grey eyes peered open to look up at her. “What changed?”

He shrugged, but that familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I have more hope now.” His lips brushed her palm. At that, she couldn’t help the smile that grew across her face.

“Can I ask what it is you’re trying to occlude? Maybe I can help?” 

Draco shook his head. “The last time I saw my mother...at the manor before we escaped. You can’t help with this one.” His jaw ticked as it tighter, a sign she was learning meant he was genuinely upset. 

“That won’t be the last time you see her Draco. You’ll see her again _when_ we win.” Hermione carded her fingers through his hair again. “I promise. Do what you must until that day. We’ll get there.”

  
_Late summer 1999_

The last time Draco saw his father was in a private room in St. Mungos, escorted by a team of Aurors. 

The meeting had been apart of the arrangement between Lucius and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as terms for the information to round up the rest of Voldemort’s supporters, along with life house arrest instead of Azkaban. The senior Malfoy had wanted to meet elsewhere, but the Healers had not cleared him or Hermione for release.

The two wizards simply stared at each other for a long minute, neither wanting to speak first. 

In the distance, Draco thought he heard shouting...

_Shimmering gold potion._

_Afternoon sunlight across warm brown eyes._

_Mad black eyes staring down at him ._

“Look at you….after all the work you’re mother, and I put into raising you…” His father’s lip curled in that horribly familiar way. 

_His mother’s blue eyes, begging him to go._

“What do you want?” Draco snapped, pushing away his overlong fringe to rub at his temples, wishing desperately he’d taken a pain potion before this meeting instead of listening to his pride and waiting until after. 

“I came to learn the truth about some rather disturbing rumors that have been circulating. The answers to those will determine the rest of transpires in this meeting.” Lucius held out a hand, and an Auror placed a large file into it without a word. 

“Well, the Quibbler says I’m actually a member of the Weird Sisters, but unfortunately, that one is unfounded. “It was probably the worst possible moment for sarcasm, but the defense mechanism went off before he could stop it.

Lucius shook his head. “Disrespectful. Did you know that your mother refused to tell us where you’d gone? Or that she had lowered the wards for you to go...At least that was until the Dark Lord got involved personally. There was only the truth after that…She died screaming for you...”

Draco stared back at his father, keeping his face carefully blank. “I didn’t know that.” 

“No...you wouldn’t…I set out the rumor that you had died because it was better than the shame of you running away. “ Lucius’s eyes dropped to the polished table between them. “And yet, you continue to disgrace our good name.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Draco ran his palms along the length of his trousers, trying to will his hands to stop shaking.

“The mudblood Draco. Our informant from the Order was particularly delighted to tell us that you were enamored with one Hermione Granger while you were in your little hovel.” The older wizard tapped the file with a single finger. “Of course, if that turns out not to be true, we can talk about your inheritance, and possibly move back to the Manor if you are done with whores and ready to take a proper wife.” 

Seconds ticked by as the silence thickened between them. Of course, he’d pick Hermione, but as the distant whispers of disembodied voices echoed through his thoughts and the last memory of her clinging to his arm while the Healer ran a basic diagnostic test told him the harsh truth: Neither of them would be fit to work or finish school anytime soon.

The war had taken everything. _Everything_.

_The snow was falling hard and fast, gathering on the rooftop outside. Her fingers cupped around his face as her lips collided with his again and again. Snowflakes were still clinging to her hair and clothes._

_“Don’t tell me you love me. That doesn’t prove anything. Say that you’ll take care of me, even if I’m not myself or I’ll never get better. Stay with me, even when everything else is gone. “_

The words left his mouth before he could believe them himself. “I won’t deny it. I won’t deny her. And I think if Mother were here, she would say it blood doesn’t matter anymore, not after all our family has been though.” 

He wished he were shouting. He wanted to flip the table over in anger and send all those papers flying. He longed for even a snarky come back. But there was nothing.

_Everything. It took everything._

“Until such time you agree to act in a way befitting your name and blood status, you’ll find your vault emptied of all Malfoy and Black inheritance. Though I do believe your _reward money_ from the Ministry is in there. Charming.” Lucius’s cold slow smile spread over from ear to ear, maniacal and terrifying. “You won’t see a knut as long as I’m alive. It’s all right here.” He slid the file across the table and left, escorted on all sides by Aurors. 

When he came back to Hermione’s room after, he found her calm but not entirely lucid. She was humming to herself quietly, staring into nothingness.

He took both her hands in his, and she finally met his eye as if she just noticed he came into the room. “I’m staying with you. I promised you I would. Everything is gone, but I’m still here.” 

She gave him a watery smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. The first real smile he'd seen from her since before...

"Do you still have hope Draco?" 

"Yeah. I do." 

***

The only sounds in the tiny flat are those that are drifting in from other places. Hermione sits up on their bed, back resting against their headboard, reading her new copy _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._ Draco settles his head further into her lap, arms wrapped around her thighs staring at nothing. 

“Harry told me that you were in hospital almost as long as I was,” she says conversationally. He responds with a noncommittal hum. “He said you had trouble too...”

“No...it’s...the Healers called it “fragmenting.” It’s when an Occlumens can’t keep what memories they want in place and the ones they previously occluded from coming up to the surface involuntarily. Sometimes it's just as little as remembering the sound of my mother’s laugh, or an image, but sometimes it’s as big as hearing someone banging down the front door or screaming for help. I’ve sorted it though, don’t worry.“ He closes his eyes as her fingers comb through his hair. 

She gives him the same hum right back. “I think you still fragment sometimes...on the bad days, like today..” she gives him a knowing look, a look that was so _Hermione_ it hurt. “That’s why you started to go to work but came right back...what did you see?” 

_You. You were dying in my arms._ He thinks to himself. “A pack of cigarettes and some swot nagging at me cut back -” 

Hermione scoffs and nudges him with her hip. “Jerk. Fine, don’t tell me.”

“You don’t want to know- “

“I do. But you don’t have to tell me.” She flips another page of _Fantastic Beasts._ "I'll figure it out eventually, I'm quite brilliant you know." 

“Are you? “ He lifts his head and unwraps his arms. “Who puts that idea in your head?” his fingers pluck at the button of her jeans. She arches an eyebrow at him and marks her page, setting the book down on the nightstand. 

“You did.” she laughs and it’s melodious in the air. His lips are blazing a path of kissing from hip to him as he tugs at the stubborn clothes. Her nails tease his scalp and he groans against, low and feral. 

“Stupid...fucking- “ Draco sits back on his heels and pulls her off the jeans in one deft pull. “Much better…

Slowly his fingers skate up her legs as he leans forward, capturing her mouth in another kiss. Her lips are warm and sweet like summer and it’s intoxicating power takes ahold of him. He can feel the tilt of her hips as she shifts her legs to entwine around him. 

“Draco…” it’s a murmur against his skin….

_And she’s under him in the tiny bed in the attic room, snow is coming down outside_

No, they’re in the flat. And they’re safe. The war is over. 

She says his name again, both hands in his hair, bringing him in deeper and deeper. 

_Hermione is screaming in agony. He has to get up, he has to get to her. Has to…_

His whole body convulses in a great shudder. 

“Draco?” Now it's a question. Her eyes are full of concern searching his face. 

“ I…”

_Bellatrix dropping to the floor._

_Gold potion bubbling in the sunlight._

_Tearful blue eyes._

_Mad snakelike red eyes._

He falls against her chest, shivering, trying to put all the fragments in their rightful place, willing the shattered pieces to hold it all together. 

Hermione makes a quiet shushing noise, adjusting them so he can lay down without crushing her. She holds him as his mind riots and breaks. It’s war she’s not privy too but must fight in all the same. 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” she mumbles against his. “ There’s hope, just hang on.”


	7. Fidelity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something in the air rippled as if the tranquil magic of the house had been disturbed. 
> 
> "What was that…" 
> 
> All was silent and still for a moment. Hermione shrugged it off as nerves, but Draco seemed to be scanning the air for something. His grip on her arm was almost painful. 
> 
> “Stay, stay here with me. Please.”
> 
> “I have to go. But I’ll come back. And when I come back, we can start our lives together. This is it, Draco.”
> 
> “This is it.” He repeated without looking at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay I wanted to have chapter 8 done before posting this one. I think you'll be grateful I did.   
> Thank you all so much for your support with this story, kudos and comments mean the world.

_**Will the darkness fall upon me** _   
_**When the air is growing thin** _   
_**Will the light begin to pull me** _   
_**To its everlasting will** _   
_**I can hear the voices haunting** _   
_**There is nothing left to fear** _   
_**And I am still calling** _   
_**I am still calling to you -** _

Ashes of Eden, Breaking Benjamin 

* * *

_ Spring 1999 _

_ Crack _

Hermione apparated directly on the top step of Grimmauld place and threw the front door. She ran down the dingy hallway, passed the shrieking portrait of Mrs. Black and up the stairs. The wood echoed loudly under her feet, but she could still hear the thundering of someone hurrying from above. The stolen occamy eggshells clattered loudly in the bag in her hand. 

“Less than an hour before the whole thing is ruined, and that was the last of the Ashwinder eggs too- “ Draco was taking the stairs two at a time to meet her. 

“I know, I know, listen,“ He didn’t stop, instead ripped the bag from her hands and ran back up the stairs. “Draco! I have to - “ but the sound of silver being reduced to a fine powder with a pestle drowned out her words. 

“There might not be enough as is if I used a spell I might lose too much- “ he answered without turning to look at her. 

“That was all we could find -”

“I figured. It’ll be...it’ll be enough...it may not be the potent batch ever made but- “ He tilted the mortar over the bowl and poured the ground shells into the cauldron, tapping the bottom, encouraging every last flake into the potion.

“Good. But Draco- “ 

He held up a single finger, stirring the cauldron vigorously in one hand, pouring in rue with the other, muttering something to himself. Wandlessly, he turned up the flames under the potion and then fished his wand from his pocket. With a shaking hand, he waved his wand over the circumference of the cauldron.  _ Felixempra.  _

Hermione licked her lips nervously. The potion was the right color but didn’t have the characteristic goldfish drops, leaping around the surface. Draco didn’t tear his eyes away. 

“It should -”

“I know Granger just wait...it’s still -”

There was a  _ plunk  _ from a cauldron. And another. Within a few seconds, the potion was alive, with the goldfish’s motion leaping across the shimmery gold surface. 

Joy dawned over her like the breaking light of a long winters night. It’d had felt like years since there had been any sign of hope. Something real they could hold on too, something to say they could win, and now they could actually have luck on their side. 

Draco was shouting a creative string of expletives at the top of his voice, punching the air. Time erased itself from where it had settled into his features, and he looked as young as his 18 years with a genuine smile filling his face. His shining grey eyes turned to her. 

She closed the space between them as fast her feet allowed. Launching herself up on tiptoe, she crashed her mouth against his, there lips coming together in a frenzy of passion and joy. Strong arms brought her body flush against his as she tangled her fingers in his hair, committing every sensation to memory. Tears escaped from under her closed eyelids. 

“Hey...hey, what the fuck...no tears...this is no time for tears. I am a brilliant potioneer, and we are happy about it. “ His thumbs swiped at the tears on her cheeks. 

“ At the risk of inflating your ego even more, yes, you are.” She sniffed. “He’s at Hogwarts Draco, he’s moved into the castle. The only way to beat him is to go there, on his ground.” 

The color that had returned to the wizard’s face drained in seconds. “No...absolutely not...that’s a death trap, Granger. It’s liquid luck; it’s not a guarantee for anything. “

She kissed him on the lips again but was only met with a stone stair. “It has to be this way. I’ll send you a Patronus as soon as we’ve won…” 

“No. no. Stay here with me. Let them go and fight you’ve done enough - “

“Draco, you know I can’t do that. I can’t, and I won’t.” 

His eyes roamed over the Felix Felicis in the cauldron. “Then you’re taking a dose too. The same size as Potter and Weasley, there’s enough. I swear to Merlin’s tits if you do something like give away your portion - “ 

"I won't. I promise I won't. We're leaving tonight as soon as it gets dark. We're going to make emergency portkeys, you should have one too, just in case." Excitement was coursing through her even through the anxiety and the fear of what was to come. Draco only looked more anxious than when she had first come back. 

"What's wrong?" She asked even though she was afraid of the answer, she had to know. 

"I just can't shake the feeling something else is coming-" 

Something in the air rippled as if the tranquil magic of the house had been disturbed. 

"What was that…" 

All was silent and still for a moment. Hermione shrugged it off as nerves, but Draco seemed to be scanning the air for something. His grip on her arm was almost painful. 

“Stay, stay here with me. Please.” 

“I have to go. But I’ll come back. And when I come back, we can start our lives together. This is it, Draco.”

“This is it.” He repeated without looking at her. 

***

The “fragmenting” started to ease up slowly, but Draco was finding it harder to put the pieces back in place. It leaves nothing of his magic left for work to Occlude it all away. 

So already exhausted, he drags himself up and out of the tiny bed, scrubbing at the stubble growing at his jaw, and kisses the still sleeping Hermione on the temple. 

Work is difficult. The paranoia means even the simplest tasks require backtracking and side stops to ensure he isn’t being followed. Eventually, he pursues a werewolf who is wanted for intentional murder on foot down the high street on Knockturn Alley, drawing way too much attention to himself for the area. But it’s three days until the full moon, so this is the last chance to catch him before he can turn and kill more. 

It takes six stunners shot off in rapid succession, but he finally goes down hard on the cobblestones and another fight on the way up. 

Reward money in hand, he starts to make his way home on foot so he can sneak a cigarette before he’s around Hermione for the night.

_ A high pitched cackle and the smell of spent dark magic.  _

_ The click of the heels on stone.  _

Draco turns on his heel to see no one but a string of preoccupied muggles behind him. 

Another block later, he can’t shake the feeling of being followed, so he dips into the nearest open shop without even looking at what it was. 

A sea of shining jewelry is sparkling in glass cases all around him, with a very concerned shop owner staring at him. 

Making up something quick, he scans the cases. “That ring, I have to have it. It’s perfect. How much?” 

***

"Did you get the tracing spell on him before they booked you?" The Azkaban guard asks without looking down at the werewolf in question. The grey uniform almost blends in with the salt covered stones that make up the fortress.  Macgillam has one hand one his bound arms, guiding him to his new cell in Azkaban. 

"Good. Next time he leaves his hiding spot will be able to follow him and get our gold from Malfoy. Old Malfoy. Oh fuck it you know which one. This polyjuice is making me as stupid as this bloke was. " He stretches his neck in the stiff uniform. “You’ll be let out on a technicality sometime soon.”

The werewolf shakes his head. “That wasn’t the deal and you fuckin’ know it. The full moon’s coming I can’t...I need wolfsbane.”

The guard just laughs and laughs. “Think about all the wolfsbane you can buy when you get out with your cut then.” He throws the werewolf bodily into the cell and slams the iron door shut. 

***

When he pushes open the front door, it’s obvious she had just as bad of a day as he did. The smell of burnt food permeates the air, and a pile of dishes fills the sink. Hermione is curled on the sofa away from him, sniffling.

Crookshanks is eating what looks like a blackened chicken leg on the kitchen floor, tail flicking with contentment. 

A pair of puffy brown eyes stare at him out of a mass of curls before turning away again, sobbing in her hands. 

“What happened? Are you alright?” Draco quickly locks and wards the door behind him. 

“I tried to use magic to make dinner.” She pulled tighter into herself as he sat down next to her, rubbing her back. “But I got scared, and there was fire- “

“Oh.”

“Oh, what do you mean, Oh?”

“It’s just that… that fire was always kind of ...your thing…”

Her brows furrow together, “What do you mean?”

“You set a teacher on fire during your first year- “

“I did?”

“And carried a jar of blue fire with you everywhere in the winter. No one argued with you because no one wanted to be set on fire -”

“You’re smirking, so I think you’re lying or stretching the truth. Stop that!” 

He pulls her curled up body on to his lap despite her weak protests to be left alone. “I’m sorry, I’m just happy it’s something so.... _ normal. _ It’s hard to cook with magic, it takes years of practice. “ She curls into his chest and sniffs. “Crooks like it though.” She swats him with an open palm. 

“I can order a take away with the best of them, though,” Hermione mumbles in a small voice, not lifting her head from it’s resting place.

“Yes, you can. Before you do that - “ he shifts to dip his hand into his coat pocket. “I’m going to do this better when I do it for real, but who knows when that’ll be.” The witch slides off his lap, entirely staring at his every movement carefully.

He pulls out a silver ring with a tiny periwinkle stone inlaid into the metal and holds out his hand for hers. His heart is pounding against his chest, and fragments of things half-remembered are bursting to the surface like fireworks. “Let me take care of you forever, Hermione. Please. Stay with me.” 

_ Orchestral music plays as enchanted snows from the ceiling.  _

_ A witch he doesn’t recognize floats past in periwinkle blue.  _

_ Pansy’s high pitched laugh. _

_ Gold potion _

_ The house shaking. _

_ Do you still have hope, Draco?  _

Hermione is pushing the ring back into his hand. “I’m hardly a witch anymore, Draco. You don’t want a life like this forever.” 

“What?” the pounding has stopped, all movement in his entire body has stopped as his blood runs cold. 

_ Warm brown eyes _

_ Tearful blue eyes _

_ Mad snake eyes.  _

He shivers as a fresh wave of icy cold crashes over him. “I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow -” 

“I know, I know, but I think…” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I think your hopeful I’ll be like I was before...and I don’t think I’ll ever come close. Look how long its been and I still can’t…do anything. Sometimes I think it’ll be easier to live life as a muggle and just deal with the accidental magic as it comes.” 

“What?” he repeats, hoping this is just an unusually long and awful hallucination.

“You deserve a healthy and whole person - “

He stands and launches the ring and the box at the wall, sending Crookshanks running from the room. The spoiled brat that lies mostly dormant within stomps his fit and screams in anger. 

But he doesn’t utter a word. Hermione is staring at him, holding her breath, looking terrified. 

“I want you. The whole point of winning the bloody war, the whole point of everything I’ve done since we were dragged out of that fucking house, where I hid for a year, for a  _ year _ , it’s all been for you. “ His voice cracks, and his mouth trembles, and he  _ hates  _ it. “I stayed for  _ you, _ Hermione.” 

The fragments are coming faster and faster, so he sucks in a breath, trying to occlude some of them, but it’s all happening too hard and fast. 

“I need to go.” Draco pushes his fringe from his face. “Don’t leave the flat. I’ll come back in a moment just...I have to go.” 

Hermione stands from the sofa, pulling at her sleeves and biting her lip. “No, wait. I think you should stay. Please. “

“I have to go -” Before he can say anything else, he leaves through the front door, warding it as much as he can, before climbing back down the stairs and out into the night.

***

The wizard lights his cigarette with the tip of his wand, with a silent spell. He jumps as someone apparates at the end of the alley, but then recognizes that it’s only  Macgillam , the other wizards Lucius had hired for the job. 

“Did you hear? They found old Malfoy dead in his house today. Fuck all we ain’t even gonna get paid for hunting his welp down. Where you’d get that?” 

The other wizard tips his head at the abandoned warehouse door. “Welp had ‘em on him. Want one?” 

“Kicked the habit ages ago. You get his wand?”

The other wizard rolled his watery blue eyes. “Nah, I left him in there roaming free and armed. We was having a laugh before you showed up. Course I did. “ He pulled out the splintered Hawthorn wand, with unicorn hair poking out either end. “ He screams more left alone that he does getting hit with curses though. Guess he’s cracked in the head.” 

“Well, now he’s a filthy rich cracked bastard. What do we do? He got any other family left?”

“He’s got a girl. Might want the money for herself. We could see if the Ministry shells out for ‘em. “

Macgillam blows out a heavy breath and looks inside the warehouse. Chained to a chair, he can just see the silvery hair of the only Malfoy left reflecting in the moonlight. Two more of there team circle around, wands out and ready. 

“We’ll give it a day, and if we don’t hear about any reward, we’ll kill ‘em. Easy as that.” He says, slamming the door closed. 

“Easy as that.” 


	8. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The floorboard squeaks as Hermione does another lap around the flat. The haze of a new day is breaking outside, and Draco still isn’t home.  
> She hasn’t slept, and she can’t stop shaking.  
> Crookshanks paws at the door and glares at her. She tells him no like he understands. The door rattles in its frame as he starts again.  
> She’s pulled on one of his jumpers, just to feel more grounded, attached to something real before her mind threatens to pull her away. The sleeves cover her hand entirely, and she has picked a thread loose, which threatens to unravel the whole thing.  
> “What if he’s just not coming back, Crooks? What if -” but she knows it in her heart not to be true. The magic in her veins that she tries to smother at every turn is humming, begging to be used.  
> He needs her to use it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know what else to say except what a ride! I hope you all enjoy this fic in its entirety.

_ Winter 1998 _

The snow was falling hard and fast, gathering on the rooftop outside. Hermione could see it piling on the ledge, almost blocking out the small circular window. There was an Order meeting happening in the kitchen four floors below them, but Hermione had abandoned the attempt to pay attention to the reports of all the failed missions.

The weight of the world felt as though it were going to snuff the light right out of her. At first, she had tried to go outside, but the snow and the noisy London street only made the tension worse. 

She sought reassurance in the only place left to go. 

The little attic room was warmer than the rest of the house. Crookshanks laid stretched out, taking up a supply shelf all to himself, purring. Draco was down at the meeting, but she curled up on the camp bed, all the same, breathing in his scent and letting the tears flow freely.

It would be a miracle if they both got out of this war alive, let alone trying to think of what any future may hold for them. Maybe Draco would go right back to the Manor to the clutches of his mother and father, who had so willingly given him over to Voldemort. He’d married a pureblood witch and have his required heir...they’d probably never speak again. 

Or maybe they wouldn’t make it that far. Perhaps they would live, but with the horrible twisted scars, war was known to leave. What if they ended up like the Frank and Alice Longbottom, forever unwell, living in St. Mungos with only visitors on holidays.

The tears came faster and harder than ever before. It felt as though her mind had finally reached its breaking point in what it could handle. 

She didn’t even hear the door open, or the floorboards squeak when he came in.

“Granger? What the hell?” his scent wrapped around her as he knelt beside the bed. “What happened?”

“I ...I was just thinking...and...I don’t know...I can’t -” she choked out, “ I can’t do this anymore. What’s going to happen to us, Draco? What happens if one of us doesn’t make it out.” Her voice rose higher and higher, cracking under the strain, her shoulders shaking. 

“We will. We will make it out of this.” His hands gripped hers so tightly it almost hurt. But it’s what she needed, she needed to feel connected to something, something real, something alive. She needed hope. “ I don’t know what brought this on…, but there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you- “ 

“Don’t tell me you love me. That doesn’t prove anything. Say that you’ll take care of me, even if I’m not myself or I’ll never get better. Stay with me, even when everything else is gone.” she sobbed, staring into his grey gaze, his features blown in fear and confusion. 

He was silent for a moment before taking both of her hands in his and tilted her chin up to stare at him directly. “I’ll always stay. I’ll always take care of you. Always always always.”

Their lips met in a frenzy, in a symphony of passion, lust, and desperation. She took what she needed again and again as Draco let himself pour into her. 

It wasn’t enough. She straddled his lap, rolling her hips against his in a wordless plea for more. They hadn’t taken it this far yet, they only skimmed around the surface with tender touches and sweet nothings. 

This, this was diving into the deep head first. Her heart was racing and she could feel her pulse in her fingertips. As her lips skimmed over his bare shoulders, she could feel his heart pounding against his chest. 

It had been years since she felt this alive. Every touch, every movement was just right.

“I love you. I love you.” It was a litany, a plea against her skin. 

“Not that. People fall out of love every day.” 

“I’ll always take care of you. No matter what. I will. I promise I will.”

“ _ Yes.”  _

***

The floorboard squeaks as Hermione does another lap around the flat. The haze of a new day is breaking outside, and Draco still isn’t home. 

She hasn’t slept, and she can’t stop shaking. 

Crookshanks paws at the door and glares at her. She tells him no like he understands. The door rattles in its frame as he starts again. 

She’s pulled on one of his jumpers, just to feel more grounded, attached to something real before her mind threatens to pull her away. The sleeves cover her hand entirely, and she has picked a thread loose, which threatens to unravel the whole thing. 

“What if he’s just not coming back, Crooks? What if -” but she knows it in her heart not to be true. The magic in her veins that she tries to smother at every turn is humming, begging to be used.

He needs her to use it. 

Draco hasn’t asked her for anything in years, never requiring anything from her other than her presence.

She can do this, she can, she just ...needs help. 

“I need to get a hold of Harry. He’ll know…” but Harry is hit or miss by mobile, not carrying with him while on duty. And he may not be awake to hear it if even if he is home. 

A silver otter and a phantom jolt of pain come to mind.

A Patronus. Right. 

She picks up the intricately carved vinewood wand, like its snake that might bite her. 

A Patronus needs happy memories. All her memories are corrupted by overwhelming pain…

Except for ones without magic.

Latching on to that idea, she closes her eyes, carefully picking a few to call on. Harry coming to visit her after so long? No, it wasn’t strong enough. Outings with her muggle parents? Too distant. 

_ He needed her.  _ She could feel it in her bones. Trembling, she tries again. 

_ The snow is piling on the window outside. It’s so cold, colder than last year. But here she's warm, here she is safe. His chest is too her back, and his hand splays out over her ribs.  _

_ Here there is no war. Here there is only the two of them where they lie entangled and sated, safe and happy.  _

_ Alive _

_ Lucid _

_ Happy. _

" _ Expecto Patronum."  _ The magic rolls through her and an illuminesent creature forms at the end of her wand. Muscles stiffen as she waits for the pain that never comes. 

But it’s not the otter From her memories. It's a serpentine-like dragon coiling and uncoiling around itself. A silver puff of fire blows out from the mouth. 

"Hello there." Hermione is so surprised at first, at the new Patronus and the lack of pain that’s come with casting it she forgets." A message for Harry Potter. I need his help finding Draco. He's missing, and I think he's in trouble. Please." 

The dragon looks at her one last time and takes off through the wall. 

The rattling of the door catches her attention again, where Crookshanks is still waiting. 

"Oh, wards, right...I suppose we should help Harry get in." Without a second thought or flinching for pain she jabs her wand at the front door.

It wouldn't occur to her until later that she had done magic without thinking for the first time in years. A wall of Runes lit up before her, from the ceiling to the floor, many of them in repeating sequences. Layers and layers of magic, hours worth of energy, all in name of protection. From what she had no idea. 

A memory of him shuddering as fragments of memories broke through unbidden came to mind. Paranoid glances out of the window, chasing phantom noises in the night. 

"Oh...oh  _ Draco _ ." 

He needed her and she had been gone for far too long. 

*** 

Harry Potter climbed the matted carpeted stairs two at time.

The door to number 2 is missing. A weak light was shining out into the hall and Crookshanks was standing guard on the threshold watching him.

"What the fuck? Hermione?" He called, looking in. The actual front door was leaning propped up against the wall, glowing with red and orange Runes.

Hermione steps into view, looking dwarfed in an overlarge jumper and her hair at full mass. In her hand is her wand and she was scanning the floor for something until she sees him out of the corner of her eye. 

"It worked!" She grins, a real toothy smile Harry hadn’t seen in ages and his heart warms with love for it. 

"Your Patronus changed."

She nods. "It used to be an otter, I remember. But the memories I used to use were too painful. I had to pick very carefully and-" she shrugs and looks back at the floor. 

"And the door?" Harry asks, slightly afraid of the answer. 

"It was easier to remove it entirely. We don't have anything for anyone to steal but maybe we should put a notice - me - not up all the same. I'm sure it alerted Draco the moment I started but- " concerned darkens her features as she turns back to the floor. 

"Right. Well I happened to be on duty when I got your message. I can’t say anything officially until I've notified  _ the next of kin _ but I can say I don't think you'll be living here much longer anyway. We knew he might be in trouble but this just confirms it." He looks around the tiny flat. "Stay at my place until I find him." 

Hermione picks up something from off the floor that turns out to be a silver ring and slides it on to her finger. "I'm coming with you." 

Harry rubs his forehead around his scar trying to phrase his thoughts tactfully. "We're going to be doing a lot of magic, you'll need to use your wand." 

"I know. I'm coming with you. " she straightens her shoulders and glares at him. He is knocked into temporary stunned silence at the look, the one that calls back to another lifetime. 

"Okay then. I have some leads from an informant last night from Azkaban. " He pushes himself off the frame to pat Crookshanks in the head. "You stay here and guard the place." 

The half- Kneazle gives him a glare that clearly says this was obvious. 

***

"We have to go- now." 

"Whassa matter?" 

"That fucking  _ dog  _ sold us out. Aurors are raiding all our spots, even called in reserves. Only a matter of time before they get here. " 

"What about our money?" 

"What's your dumbass goin’ buy in Azkaban?" 

"And the whelp?" 

"Leave him. Even if he lives he's someone else's burden now." 

***

The only light he can see is a single white line under the door. Its breaks in its singularity as feet move on the other side. 

One eye is swollen shut and his voice is left silenced. His wand sits on an empty table, mocking him with its broken beautiful pieces. Voices are garbled and hollow and there's no way to make out what they are saying.

Probably saying they'd have to come back later. Or possibly even saying to just leave him and move on. 

He kicks the table leg in frustration, and it makes a loud hollow sound, ricocheting around the cavernous room. There’s a temporary silence and then the sounds of fists banging on the door. 

One irritatingly familiar voice breaks through the din.

“Malfoy. You in there?”

_ Fucking. Potter. _

He slams his foot against the table leg, hoping it makes enough of a racket to get his irritation across too. 

He’s going to die with that being the last words he hears. The fuzzy edges of a concussion eats at his consciousness. 

_ Orchestra music  _

_ Warm brown eyes bathed in the afternoon light  _

_ GO DRACO JUST GO. _

_ A shimmering gold potion _

_ Do you still have hope? _

No, not really. 

Another voice floats into his brain, and he’s sure he’s hallucinating it. 

“Draco…Are you in there?”

_ Yeah. For now. _

He gives the table another feeble kick. His vision blacks and his instincts want him to give in to the urge to sleep, which would be to give into death. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I want you to take care of me, I do. I’ll be yours for as long as you’ll have me. But right now, I need to take care of you, okay?”

A kick and the table is too far to reach anymore. Even at the better end, he’s telling himself the moisture on his face is sweat. 

“I need you to move as far from the door as possible. Protect as much as yourself as you can. It’s the only way to get to you in time.” 

With his hands and feet still bound to the chair there isn’t much he can do but in turns as much as she can from the door.

“I love you, Draco. And I’ll stay with you. Always, always, always. “

The stillness fills the air. The unmistakable calm before the storm. 

“ _ Confringo”  _

***

,

She nods. “I’m so proud. You’ve done so well.”

“I ...I did?”

She nods again. “But you’re still not done. I know it’s hard, but it’s going to get so much easier, I promise.”

“Done with what?”

“I love you Draco. I’m going to let you go now.” 

“What? No. Don’t!” 

And everything went black again. 

***

Hermione lets her fingers caress the crest of his cheekbone, trying to memorize all his features, every muscle, and every scar. If she ever has to tear her eyes away, it’ll be too soon. 

For so long, she saw him without actually absorbing any of it. He was just a presence, a beacon of sanity and safety in an otherwise murky world. It had been easy to forget he was human with needs like her own. 

Regret for all the lost time rose like bitter bile in her throat. She should have….she should have  _ tried harder _ , or maybe she should have been better and found another way into the building.

There hadn’t been, and she knew it. The only ways in had been disillusioned only to be taken down by the caster. Finding the person who’d done could have taken days or even weeks. 

“Draco. I need you to come back to me. I promised to take care of you, and I’m not a liar, so ...wake up.” She shakes his arm to no response. “Also, Gringotts won’t leave me alone. I need you to wake up to spend your money before the Goblins put it all on my shoulders,” she smirks at her joke but nothing. 

The tears come in earnest now, hope slipping quickly from her like water in her palm. 

She puts her head on his chest and laces her fingers in his. “I’m staying. Always always always.” 

A large hand rests on the small of her back, his thumb making gentle circles on a patch of exposed skin. 

“Don’t cry, Granger. M’still here.”

She lifts her head, stunned into disbelief, refusing to breathe in fear that in the next heartbeat, she would have imagined it all. 

Silver eyes are watching her, half-open but shining from beneath fair lashes. 

With trembling hands she cupped his face and pressed her lips to his, swallowing her sobs, still trying not to exhale. Slowly opening her eyes as if from dream, she sees him. 

“Stay with me.” Its a simple request and she presses her forehead to his

“Always always always”


End file.
